Aliyah Chronicles #8: Our First Six Months

We've come a long way.

Checking my daughter's head for lice six months ago under the bright fluorescents of the bathroom, with my daughter's screams bouncing off the tiles and echoing throughout the house, I grumbled to myself:

I don't think I'm going to make it in Israel.

I already have too many tasks to complete before bedtime. Checking every strand of hair, while wrestling with my impatient five-year-old, might take me over the edge.

I dug the lice comb into my daughter's scalp thinking wistfully of my friends back in New Jersey, speaking English without having to look up every other word in the dictionary, giving birth in English, and managing bedtime routine without nit picking.

A friend told me the other day that a new family would be arriving that evening on Aliyah. I reminisced about the excitement and anticipation we felt as our own plane hit the tarmac at Ben Gurion Airport six months ago. How we stepped off the plane, and entered a whole new life. I remembered the exhaustion and the heat of Israel, our tiny apartment with mattresses on the kitchen floor, the jet lag, and the feeling of being completely lost.

And with a tear in my eye, I recognized how far we had come in six months.

Since arriving on our Yishuv six months ago via three taxis with 17 pieces of luggage, six carry-ons and three car seats, drained and overheated, we have accomplished much. We moved twice, unpacked our lift of 125 boxes, went furniture shopping in a foreign language, set up a bank account, obtained health insurance, bought a used car, fixed the used car, gave birth to a new baby (our first "Sabra"), lived through a war, and experienced my husband's first business trip back to America.

Not to mention how we watched the children settle into new schools, make friends, and learn Hebrew.

I can now call the gas company to get my BBQ hooked up to the gas line, and the furniture store to enquire when our wardrobe will be delivered, and the phone company to contest a phone bill. All this in Hebrew. Not great Hebrew, but Hebrew nonetheless. I've come a long way from Ben Gurion Airport.

My children are still not fluent in Hebrew, but they don't seem to mind. Just like me, they know what to say in Hebrew to get their daily needs met. They have lots of Israeli friends, and go to school happily. Every day, my daughter reports to me one more word that she understands, and one more word that she can say. We marvel at their beautiful Israeli accents, admiring their rolling "rs" and flawless "chs."

We've learned how to remain calm and to smile at our "Israeli moments."

Why would anyone want to blow up my math book and my tuna fish sandwich?

Like last month, when my son forgot his knapsack at the bus stop. We only realized it the next day when it was too late. His classmates informed us that the Yishuv security force had blown it up along with his new winter coat, which was sitting on top.

"What?" My son's eyes squinted in confusion. I could see he was thinking, why would anyone want to blow up my math book and my tuna fish sandwich?

"It looked suspicious," I tried to explain. He began to cry, fearing that he might have to redo all the work that he had done since September.

I told my son, "Thank God, they are looking after our safety here. And we should be very happy and grateful."

He returned to the bus stop and collected the remnants of his knapsack, including a piece of the zipper and a ripped math worksheet. His friends taught him the word in Hebrew for "blown-up." My husband and I smiled at each other, knowingly… Only in Israel.

This evening, I found a bug in my daughter's hair.

"Ew," she made a face and turned away. My son took the tissue to the toilet, and I continued running the comb through her hair giving that bug and the one after that little fan fare. My daughter has grown to accept these checks just like books before bed and treats on Shabbos (though a lot less pleasant), and ironically, I've come to appreciate the special mother-daughter time we have together (as long as I don't accidentally pull a hair out of her head).

We know we have a much longer road to travel, and greater challenges to overcome. But now that we've made the move, we have more confidence to forge ahead and to establish our lives here in Israel. We are less exhausted, and less overwhelmed. We understand that Aliyah is a process which does not end when you step off the plane or when the Israeli passports arrive in the mail. In fact, we've only just begun our Aliyah. But it's a good beginning, thank God.

Featured at Aish.com:

About the Author

Miriam (Tara) Eliwatt has an MFA in Playwriting from Columbia University. She has written and directed plays in the Jewish community as well as taught drama to elementary and high school-aged girls. She has performed most recently in the Regal Productions/Zir Chemed musical productions in Israel. You can check out her new blog onTimesofIsrael.com.

The opinions expressed in the comment section are the personal views of the commenters. Comments are moderated, so please keep it civil.

Visitor Comments: 12

(12)
rosemary,
June 22, 2011 10:14 PM

luvly! a fun take on the first few months. we r also privileged to be living in our Holy Land since april 2011 rosemary

(11)
,
December 23, 2009 6:41 PM

Feel connected

I miss being in Tara's writing class back in New Jersey, but feel a little more connected to the holy land reading her article. Tara and family... you are missed, and we're really happy for you! Hatzlacha with the holy adventure!

(10)
Chana,
May 24, 2009 9:56 PM

Re Lice and Orah's advice :-)

Orah's advice is good, or so I've heard. Never had to try it myself. However, just a note. I assume your daughter will be playing outside, so don't use citronella. Rosemary and Geranium are fine. Citronella is a natural bug repellent, but citronella oil and sun can have unpleasant effects on the skin. If she is running and playing outside, the top of her head will get a lot of sun exposure. Just want to keep your family healthy and happy! best wishes from NY

(9)
Andrea Eliwatt,
April 1, 2009 11:29 PM

Tara
You are amazing, your stories about the kids and your new life make it a little easier to deal with missing you.
mom eliwatt

(8)
Orah,
March 28, 2009 11:12 PM

Use pure rosemary oil EVERY DAY

The solution to lice is very simple and works 99% of the time. Buy rosemary oil (or citronella or geranium) and drop at least three drops on child's hair before going to school. IT IS NOT ENOUGH TO PUT IN IN SHAMPOO! The spray is not effective enough either. Additionally, you MUST REMOVE ALL EGGS!! This can take four to five combings, even in the best of cases. If you follow these guidelines, you will totally eliminate the lice problem in your house, b'ezrat Hashem. You're life will be sooo much easier.

(7)
Chana Zelasko,
March 26, 2009 4:51 PM

Keep it up

You bring me back 32 years when I was a new immigrant. It only gets better. Seeing your children develop and mature and at the same time seeing Eretz Yisroel develop and grow. It's an indescribable joy.

(6)
Alana Eliwatt,
March 24, 2009 5:26 PM

You are an amazing woman my sister in law!

Tara you amaze me more and more as I read your journey of life in Israel. I miss you all terribly, but these stories warm my heart! keep up the good work. I love you guys

(5)
Aliza,
March 23, 2009 6:41 PM

tea tree

tea tree shampoo is a good prevention once you get rid of them. good luck, and btw nits exist in the rest of the world too, you just might have missed them in the states, but my kids have avoided them all over.

(4)
Anonymous,
March 23, 2009 1:37 PM

natural sprays work

you can buy natural sprays that contain rosemary from your pharmacy. I have found that they really work in preventing lice. good luck.

(3)
Simcha Mendel,
March 23, 2009 1:49 AM

Hairspray & Life in Israel

First of all, hairspray may prevent the lice, but it is not healthy to use. I believe there are special shampoos to prevent lice. Ask your doctor or pharmacist.
Secondly, I have resided in Israel for 15 years & am still trying to acclimate. The only thing that is giving me the incentive to remain here is that I have good friends & two great synagogues which I love, but life in Israel is extremely difficult.

(2)
ruth housman,
March 22, 2009 3:24 PM

Moving Experiences

Good luck settling into your new home, as the newest settlers. It's an adventure!
It took me the longest time to find a home, meaning putting down roots, and I am so happily, a New Englander, with roots here in Boston. There are so many "a pparent" choices in life, and it seems a celestial "Parent" brought you Home.
Enjoy and Best of luck on your Aliyah.

(1)
eidel,
March 22, 2009 10:58 AM

keep lice away

Hairspray! Wash her hair every night and then hairspray it. Lice do not live in hairspray.I learned that my first year as a teaacher in a title one school.

I have had a very difficult life, beset by illness, unemployment, and disappointment from those who had pledged to care for me. I am having trouble seeing the benevolent God in all this. What do you say, rabbi?

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

I am very sorry to hear about the difficult times that you have had to endure. The trials that you have gone through no doubt have obviously made your relationship to God a difficult one. I can understand why.

As a rabbi, I have witnessed the most horrendous situations imaginable. I have experienced a 20-year-old who lost both of her parents in a car crash. Can you imagine a girl so close to her parents and in one day they're gone? I've lived through a husband coming home to find that his wife has collapsed, and in two days she's dead. There was nothing wrong with her before. And on and on and on.

When someone is in the midst of suffering, that's not the time to offer answers. It's a time to listen and empathize and be with the person as best you can. If there's anyone going through a painful time and is looking for a sense of relief, I am skeptical whether these intellectual answers will offer any kind of relief.

Dealing with pain and suffering is never easy, particularly since we often feel so helpless and out of control. But one thing we do have control over and that is our attitude. Try to stick to this 3-part formula:

1) Look for the positive side to things.

2) Try not to judge God, Who knows more than we do.

3) Ask God for the clarity to understand how this is for the best.

Our perceptions of good and evil are directly related to our understanding of the world. An African tribesman who never saw a hypodermic syringe in his life could think upon seeing a doctor inoculate a child that the doctor was actually trying to hurt the child! Our perceptions change with information.

Therefore the Jewish approach to "suffering" is that everything happens for the good, but since we are finite and cannot see the whole picture, we perceive some things as bad.

God has more information than we do; thus we cannot judge Him and say He is doing something bad. We trust God and say, "I haven't yet figured out why, but God knows this is for the best."

The Talmud tells the story of Rebbe Akiva who was traveling on the road late one night. His only source of light, a candle, blew out; his mode of transportation, a donkey, ran away; and his only source of food, a chicken, died. The next morning Rebbe Akiva realized that armed bandits had plundered everything in the area. Had they seen his candle, or heard his chicken or donkey, they would have victimized him as well.

We can accept pain and suffering in the world by trying to see what positive side it may have. For example, a woman whose child was killed by a drunk driver went out and started MADD - Mothers Against Drunk Driving. This organization was responsible for revolutionizing the laws against drunk driving in America, and as a result has surely saved thousands of lives. It could be said that the purpose of this child was to elevate his mother to the towering heights of greatness that she indeed achieved as a result of the tragedy.

Of course it is not always easy to find the positive side. But even the attempt helps tremendously. It is interesting that if we look back on our own lives, the times we have grown the most are not when things have gone easy, but when they've been difficult. So many times what appears as "bad" or "negative" ends up being a blessing. A person could lose their job, for example, only to realize later that was the opportunity they needed to break into a growing, new field!

In the meanwhile, we have invested so much time and energy into worrying or regretting - all for nothing and all to our detriment. It is wise to remember that worry is defined as "interest paid in advance on a debt which often times never comes due." So when we are having problems, we can ask ourselves, "What have I learned or gained?"

Also, there are two excellent books I can recommend: "Why me, God?" by Lisa Aiken (published by Aaronson), and "Confronting the Loss of a Baby," by Yamin Levy (Ktav).

In 1973, a cease-fire resolution was passed by the U.N. Security Council to halt the Yom Kippur War. Shuttle diplomacy by Henry Kissinger compelled Israel and Egypt to accept the cease-fire. Fighting, however, would continue for another four days. In the war, Israel suffered the loss of 2,600 soldiers and 800 tanks. Four years later, Egyptian leader Anwar Sadat would visit Jerusalem and announce his readiness to forge a permanent peace deal.

I told a group of people to repeat, "I am grateful to my Creator" five minutes each day for a month. Some of the results were:

* "At first I found it difficult to keep this up. This gave me a jolt. The Creator is giving me life each moment of each day and He gives me the air I breathe. Why is it so hard for me to express my gratitude? This self-rebuke gave me a strong feeling of motivation. I was committed to use the power of repeating messages to myself to build up this gratitude.

* "I realized that I would only be able to repeat this for five minutes at a time if I would sing it with a tune. So I would sing this five minutes each day. It became my favorite song.

* "The first day when I heard this, I found myself having to wait for something to start. I began to feel frustrated. Then I said to myself, ‘This is a perfect time to repeat, "I am grateful to my Creator" for five minutes.' It totally transformed the waiting into an uplifting experience. Throughout the month, I chose potentially frustrating moments to practice this. After a while, the stirrings of feelings of frustration became a trigger to begin my exercise."

* "Someone saw me smiling while I was waiting in line at my local supermarket. He asked me if anything special is going on in my life. "There are a lot of special things that I'm beginning to become more aware of," I replied.

* "By repeating, ‘I am grateful to my Creator,' I began to realize that everyone who is kind to me in any way was sent to me by my Creator. I increased my gratitude towards those people and I increased my gratitude to the Creator of it all."

May He Who knows what is hidden accept our call for help and listen to our cry (Siddur).

The Talmud states that a person may be coerced to perform a mitzvah even if it is required that the mitzvah be done of one's own volition (Rosh Hashanah 6a).

But are not coercion and volition mutually exclusive? Not necessarily, explains Rambam. Inasmuch as the soul of the Jew intrinsically wishes to do the Divine will, and it is only the physical self - which is subject to temptation - that may be resistive, the coercion inflicted upon the person overcomes that external resistance. Thus, when one performs the mitzvah, it is with the full volition of the inner self, the true self, for at his core, every Jew wishes to comply with the mandates of the Torah.

There is a hidden part of us, to which we may have limited access, yet we know it is there. When we pray for our needs, said Rabbi Uri of Strelisk, we generally ask only for that which we feel ourselves to be lacking. However, we must also recognize that our soul has spiritual needs, and that we may not be aware of its cravings.

We therefore pray, said Rabbi Uri, that God should listen not only to the requests that we verbalize, but also to our hidden needs that are very important to us - but which He knows much better than we.

Today I shall...

try to realize that there is a part of me of which I am only vaguely aware. I must try to get to know that part of myself, because it is my very essence.

With stories and insights,
Rabbi Twerski's new book Twerski on Machzor makes Rosh Hashanah prayers more meaningful. Click here to order...